


The King and the Pawns (caught unawares)

by evarosen, pillstaker



Category: Terminator Genisys (2015)
Genre: John has daddy issues, John has mommy issues, M/M, name one issue John has it, shut up Kyle you're no better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-10-07
Packaged: 2018-04-20 19:09:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4799057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evarosen/pseuds/evarosen, https://archiveofourown.org/users/pillstaker/pseuds/pillstaker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's seen some women who resembled Sarah through the years, some even more than her. He doesn't know why he's reacted like he did. Maybe because he's seen her next to Kyle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Around what John calculates to be the mid point of the war, they storm several Skynet work camps at once. Most of the people they manage to get out in one piece are useless for the final stages of the war, being physically or mentally unfit to fight; but there's an after to plan for. For the first time, John can start to believe it.

He and Kyle gather those willing and able to join the army; John talks to them and Kyle teaches them to fight. Sometimes is the other way around.

Kyle is still very young, and officially still a common soldier; but he's learning fast. John sometimes sees glimpses of the steely, unflinching combatant that would be able to face a killing machine, in an unknown territory, and succeed.

More often than not, it brings him little joy.

And then John sees her.

Kyle is showing a young woman how to strap her gun to her arm, and she nods and executes his instructions perfectly. Her hair is short, barely starting to grow back, but the colour, and more important the shape of her face, the way she nods and helds her chin...

He's never even thought about it; Sarah had been his only family in the world, and they'd always been alone. Nobody had come for them when she was locked up.

He knew his grandmother had been dead since before he was born (another casualty of the war, there were people dying for him reaching far longer than he cared to think), but who's to say...

"What's your name?" he says, reaching for her arm. He startles both the woman and Kyle, who takes a curious step forward as if to stand between them if only there was room.

"Lena, sir," the woman (barely a young girl, perhaps even younger than Kyle) says, looking at him with worried, round eyes. Which are enterely the wrong shape, upon close inspection. Even so...

"No, your entire name. Lena what?"

Her eyes go from him to Kyle, a bit fearfully now. "Is something..?"

"She went through the scanners already, John," Kyle says, in a tone which indicates he suspects it might not be about that, at all.

"Lena Douglas. My husband is here, as well."

A man, quite a few years younger than John but with prematurely gray hair edges from the nearby group. "That'll be me, sir."

"They got here only this morning; but they're cleared, John. I saw to it."

John nods, feeling a bit ridiculous. Even though he can't help but to press a bit more. "From which camp?" he asks casually. He knows people sometimes got relocated, but it could be a clue. Even if he felt more and more tempted to kick himself and his ridiculous fancies as the seconds go by.

"What used to be Chicago," the man says.

John nods again, and takes another look at the woman. Could be, could be not. He's seen some women who resembled Sarah through the years, some even more than her. He doesn't know why he's reacted like he did. Maybe because he's seen her next to Kyle.

"Fine. You're doing good," he says, lamely. Kyle nudges his arm, subtly, and they start walking around the room again, offering encouraging words and advise as they go.

Most of these people will be cannon fodder on the nearing crippling advances against Skynet, brough along for sheer number.

John had intended not to look at any of their faces for too long.

He had intended for so many things.

*

John climbs into Kyle's bed that night.

He's never done it before; he'd always told himself he was trying to be there for Kyle, to give something back for all he would eventually take, even though he could repeat himself all he wanted it was inevitable things would come to pass as they already had, for them to be here now. Tried to pretend is wasn't selfishness, but what's one more flaw in the great scheme of things, where he always takes even the things he doesn't want from everyone else?

Kyle sits up at first, alarmed. Clearly he thinks John is waking him for some emergency, and John feels newly ashamed for his thoughtless impulse.

"No, I just..." he says, his face burning.

"Oh," Kyle says, and makes room for him. They're pressed together, there's no other way for them to fit; they arrange themselves to lay face to face, and look at each other for a few moments.

John hasn't even taken off his boots, but he pulls the small gun from his thigh holster, at least, and lets it on the floor, within reach. It's not overly paranoid of him; they're all sleeping fully dressed. He's told his people they might have to run at short notice. The reports from this period are confusing; so many things rushing at once.

"John, you.." Kyle starts. John, who'd been starting to close his eyes, makes an encouraging sound, giving Kyle's hand a light squeeze to show he's paying attention. It's the least he can do, after perhaps robbing him from a night's sleep for his own benefit.

"You went back, to the new group's quarters. Without me." 

It's not quite a question, because Kyle never, ever questions John or his motives, not more than anyone else does. _Prophet John Connor_. He's trained them well, he thinks, not even half as bitterly as he should. He's trained himself as well.

"They're making good progress," he says, and sees Kyle frown in the dim light.

"Did you talk to many of them?" Kyle steers, and he's good, he's good at subtlety. Saying things without saying them. He's spend so much time at John's side. _He was so true. So honest_ , John remembers Sarah saying, and for a second wonders if he could have tainted Kyle with the other half of him, the half that didn't come from him, the half that hasn't said an honest thing to him or so many almost-truths that barely count as such.

That doesn't mean he's going to be upfront at the moment, though. Long time habits and all that. Not touching what you couldn't or weren't willing to explain.

"Perhaps not all of them will pass muster when they see proper action. I just wanted a second impression."

"You could have just asked." Kyle says, too quickly. He hesitates, and adds, "after all, there are more important things that require your attention."

John supresses a smile. Nah, transparent as always. Perhaps John's propensity to decieveness truly came from nowhere. After all, if Sarah had been a liar, John's childhood would have run much more smoothly.

"As well as yours. We should go back to the main camp already."

John doesn't intent to know what will become of Lena. Or to risk Kyle remembering her. 

_He has never seen a woman as beautiful as Sarah._

He squeezes Kyle's hand again, for no reason.

*

John sees her again, though.

He's stumbling through one of the common rooms, dizzy and a bit frizzled around the edges after a close encounter with--know what, he doesn't even knows what it was. It was big and had many lights and guns, and totalled John's trasport.

That's what he needs to know.

He's trying to spot the base's commander, to send a patrol to find if there's more of those things nearby, when he spots her, sitting and incongruously sewing a torn uniform.

Her hair has grown into a ponytail, and although she doesn't have bangs he still stops and stares.

She notices him standing there, and lifts her head; her eyes travel over his worse-for-wear appearance, and become alarmed.

"Sir? What happened to you?"

"I didn't know you were in this base," he says, and winces internally; too familiar for a soldier he's only meet once (twice, if one counts his subrepticios second trip to stare at her than Kyle somehow found out about).

"We reagrouped here, after...but you know that," she says, and the sorrowful shine in her eyes, quickly covered by a set of her jaw, make him swallow and shift uneasily.

"Yes, I do," he says, though he knows the tactical information and not exactly what she might be referring to, what the last battles might have cost her. He won't ask.

"I could fix that for you," she says, trying to change the subject, perhaps in view that despite first impression he doesn't seem about to keel over any second.

He pulls gingerly at the ruin of his sleeve. He's calculating what this base will run into in the following months.

"Do you have any medical training?" he asks, out of the blue.

"No," she asks, surprised. He nods at her needlework.

"You know how to sew. That's a start."

"I wouldn't try my luck with a living creature, Sir. Or better, a living creature shouldn't try their luck with me."

"We don't have high standars," John says, gesturing at the left side of his face. He smiles to take the edge of it; it doesn't bother him anymore.

She smiles back, a little uneasily.

"John! John! What happened to you?"

John turns toward Kyle, startled; of course someone had run to tell him John was back and clearly mauled.

"You should see the other guy. Actually, we should go and try to blow it before it sees someone else first." John says, and walks toward Kyle before he sees who's in front of him. He doubts he remembers her, but just to err in the side of cautious.

That night, he dreams of Sarah. 

She's teaching him to shoot a gun. She's staring at the distance, wind blowing her fair hair.

She's sewing the wounds on his face, telling him _This is who you are now. You're a fighter, you'll survive._

Do as I say and not as I do, a long term Connor tradition.


	2. Chapter 2

_When John was five years old, his mother took him to a park._

_It was one of the few normal days they spend together, so it should be sealed on his memory, but for some reason the details are blurry._

_He played with another boy near his age the whole afternoon, and when the other child's mother called him to leave, she leaned toward Sarah and told her something, before ruffling John's hair and walking away, holding her little boy's hand._

_The other boy was nice, so John had hoped to play with him again the next afternoon, but Sarah and him never went back to that park._

_John doesn't remember the other boy's name, or how he and his mother looked._

_Still, he sometimes thinks about it._

_It was a nice day._

*

John is bleeding out in the floor of a work camp he was foolish enough to storm with little manpower.

Scrath that; John is bleeding out after falling for a trap. The foolish part, though, still applies.

He had read about it. Infiltrators not only meant skin jobs. Collaborators; people who understood life would continue to be difficult and dangerous, even if they won, and were prepared to sell their fellow men, for the promise of a little luxury.

There's no other explanation, really, for the camp to be empty of workers and full of machines, after the Resistance recieved _a tip_ from a nearby base. As much as John would like to believe otherwise.

John knows he's bleeding out, because his wound no longer hurts, his vision is blurring, and he's hallucinating. John groans at his subconscious' predictability. His mother is trying to staunch his bleeding.

"You can't give up. You're our hope, you can't..."

John wants to tell her it's ok, the lesson has sunk in, she can reassure him just once and he won't forget. Or maybe she can simply smile at him (she had such a pretty smile, even if it was always sad).

Before the darkness engulfs him, he's still coherent enough to think it's very strange, that her imagined fingers pressing down manage to really hurt.

*

When he wokes up his mother's still there. He blinks, and realizes his mistake at once.

Lena stares back at him, and her face does blossom into a smile. He turns his head on the pillow and looks away. At least he didn't call out loud for his mother in front of who knows how many other soldiers.

John is always all about the brighter side.

"Reese! Reese! He's awake!"

There's the noise of her footsteps fading, and Kyle's heavier ones entering the room.

Kyle's eyes are reddened; John was under for more than a day, then.

"Every time I took my eyes off you, I swear to God," Kyle says, sitting down at his side. 

John wants to tell him all his worry is in vain. Nothing will happen to John while he's there to see it, that is a fact.

"Yeah, my terrible luck." John says slowly, his throat raspy. Kyle squeezes his hand, a mirror gesture from the other night. "So, she got me out?"

Kyle's expression turns minutely more closed off. It's very likely nobody but John would have noticed. "Only you and her. It was..."

"Luck, not so terrible after all," John says, surprising himself.

He'll talk with Kyle about this, but not here, and not with her between them.

Later.

Later, he goes to thank Lena, and she smiles to him again. When they move to another base, he has her transfer as well.

He does not talk to her, or seek her out; just wants to know she's around.

It's not a big deal.

*

Whoever provided the false information for the raid proves to be untraceable. 

It was hearsay; it came from a rumor; it came from the other camp's survivors; it came from...

"I just can't believe someone can...what is there to gain? A slower death? It just doesn't make sense." Kyle says.

"Not everyone is cut to do the right thing always, Kyle. Also, one might argue that what we have to offer is also a slower death," John says, gravely. He tries to soften the edge of it with a smile, cutting off Kyle's indignant protest. "On the other hand, some people are just dicks. _Homo homini lupus_. One tends to forget, what with the world ending."

John does not say Kyle is too young to remember, the few years after Judgment Day; how men had been more dangerous that the very machines that had caused their near annihilation.

In a way, being at John's side has protected Kyle from seeing the world outside the resistance's idealistic propaganda (a propaganda that John is well aware of having spoon-fed to him, if he's feeling half-honest), and so betrayal is a hard concept for him to grasp.

John, on the other hand, has seen more greys than he cares to think about, both during his training years before and his first few years in the work camps, so he can even understand, how, given the chance, you could be willing to do _anything_ to keep whatever little you have.

He can understand; that does not mean he can allow it.

"Keep digging," he says. "Either our rotten apple is long gone, or they will try again. We must be ready."

*

John does not mean to start a paranoia.

"Be discreet about it," he says to the few officers he puts on alert. But gossip travels fast on the tunnels. 

The three favorite conversation pieces that year are:

1 - Whether Kyle Reese is really Commander Connor's illegitimate child, or his partner

2 - Commander Connor's peculiar interest in one of the new recruits (most people's opinion on this was most likely influenced by their view in the previous subject); and

3 - Who was a traitor.

Not necessarily in that order.

*

Only the last one ever reaches John's ears. At least for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you see where this is going? If so, let me know D:
> 
> j/k; will update soon.


	3. Chapter 3

There used to be a saying, 'bad luck always comes in threes'. 

No one believes it anymore, because bad news come now all the time, in threes, fours, fives and counting.

Still, when Kyle asks about Lena's presence in a barely contained hostile tone, John starts waiting.

On his case, it had always being 'catastrophes comes in threes'. And they scalate.

As uncomfortable as that particular conversation gets, it barely registers on what happens next.

John always hated that saying, and its accuracy.

*

"I saw Lena Douglas in the mess yesterday." Kyle says. 

John didn't know that. She was supposed to arrive only this morning. John would have known what to say by tomorrow at the latest. If there had been _something_ for him to say, which he had expected not to be the case.

"She proved herself to be more than capable. We can always use..."

"We can use capable people everywhere. Why...?" Kyle starts, and then bites his lip. He sets the maps he was inspecting aside, and moves his face as if to look John in the eye, without actually doing it. John knows the move; he does it often himself.

"No one would dare to say anything about you taking a married woman..."

Wait, _what?_

"I expect no one to have anything to say about common gossip while we're _fighting for our lives_." John says, because he doubts he can properly express the level of utter disbelief that--Wait, _what_?! He reins himself in, barely, until all that remains is the fact that is _Kyle_ , of all people, saying this to him. "Do you really think that of me, that I would--manipulate...?"

And because _is_ Kyle, of all people, he can't finish the phrase. Because he doesn't believe in karma, but he's half sure that if he uses that word again in his presence he will spontaneously combust, and that would be bad. For mankind, and all.

"No..." Kyle says, but he sounds unsure. 

"Kyle, I had her husband transfer as well. If I..." he _really_ can't say it. "Why don't break them apart?"

Kyle still isn't looking at him. "What's _his_ name, John?"

Oh. 

Oh, well.

"...Douglas?" _Lena Douglas and her husband_ , he told the man in charge. There go the tales about John's brilliance.

Kyle doesn't even look accusing, that's the worst part. He looks weirdly resigned, and John supposes he's really too old for hero-worship anymore, but...

"I'm grateful, that is all," John says, sounding unconvincing to his own ears. He used to be able to lie with such ease. Except to...but thinking of her is what got him in this mess in the first place. "Kyle, nevermind she's married, she's half my age. I'm her commanding officer. Do you really think me capable of taking advantage like that?"

Kyle does look up at that. "Nobody would think...."

" _I_ would think it." John has, in fact, subtly let be common knowledge that any kind of behavior that could be read as abuse would be meet with hostility should it reach his ears. _Homo homini lupus_. And then the hunter would come. 

Kyle swallows. "We don't get to choose who we love," he merely says, in that awfully subdued voice. Then he briskly gets up, and shakes his head, forcing a smile. "I'm sorry. It's none of my bussiness. I shouldn't have..."

And John would rather never, ever again have a talk with Kyle about romantic love or the hability to choose, and specially both combined; but in that spirit, he must nip this in the bud.

"There's nothing to apologize for. Because you know it's ridiculous, right?"

"Sure." Kyle says. "Too young, and under your command. Ridiculous."

 _One disaster at the time_ , John thought, and didn't press further. Maybe he should have. But then again, it's not as if it wouldn't have happened on its own.

*

He does end up learning the name of Lena's husband. He learns it after he attacks Kyle on the way to Skynet's bunker; after Kyle is forced to put a knife through his throat, after one of the other soldiers present testifies he hear the man tell his accomplice they couldn't wait to make it into John's unit, so Kyle would have to do, since they'd been told it would be almost better.

So there was another Jon who knew how important Kyle really was. 

There had been no survivors in the camp of what used to be Chicago. Jonathan Douglas, and his wife.

John can't wait to see what number three will be. Aside from the fact that Skynet apparently knew this time what Sarah Connor looked like.


	4. Chapter 4

Kyle spends the next few days watching John like a hawk, a sentiment John would appreciate more if it didn't imply Kyle, and several other people under his command, it seemed, thinking he was being partial and could do something stupid any minute.

"People are whispering, John. They say you're refusing to see justice done because..."

"Because what? Because we don't have any proof? Oh, wait, we do have evidence. She saved my life, when she could have let me die. No witnesses. We should execute her right now."

"Maybe it didn't suit their purposes yet. Maybe is not killing you what they want."

"What else could Skynet want? You don't even know what lenghts it would go. It would..." _It would kill you. It will kill you._

John cuts himself at that, because Kyle is looking at him with that look that says he _knows_ John is hiding stuff from him, and while so far he's been devoted enough not to press, John sees the line might have gotten too thin this time.

"If you don't do something, someone else will." Kyle says, and he does not sound happy about it, but he sounds certain.

"An specific someone?"

Kyle hesitates. "I've hear things around, that's all."

*

The medic at the base is an afable man. He's on first name basis with all the soldiers, except for John. It's not that John likes him any less; it would just make things confusing.

"I can always use another pair of hands, Commander. But I thought she wasn't..."

"Private Douglas would be glad to do something useful with her time until she's cleared for missions again, I'm sure. She could also use the distraction. It can't be easy." John says. He hasn't actually spoke to her so far, leaving interrogation to her immediate commander. Kyle had also been reluctant to face her, which had been at the same time worrying and a relief.

The medic makes a humming, sympathetic noise. "Yes, I heard something about it. Nasty bussiness."

"How much did you hear?"

The medic meets John's eyes, calmly. "I've been hearing all these years you always know what you're doing. That's enough for me."

Confusion be damned, this calls for friendlier terms. "Thank you, Connor," he tells the medic, brieftly squeezing his arm for good measure.

The medic beams at him and waves him modestly away.

So there's at least two people happy with this arrangement.

*

The cook at the mess always makes sure to save an extra treat for John is there's something that can qualify as that. John usually gives them to Kyle (or shares them with him, lately), but since Kyle dislikes oatmeal raisin cookies enough to give up the share that is actually part of his meal, John takes his extra ones elsewhere.

The infirmary seems as good a place as any.

He tells himself he's looking for the medic; he's a grown man and he's not trying to sweet-tooth his way into repairing a friendship that was never there to begin with.

The fact that oatmeal raisin cookies was one of the few things Sarah could cook has nothing to do with...

Ok, so he does _not_ want to eat them with Lena, because that would be...

He will just drop them near her and go away.

He's definitely not expecting her to lift a hand to her mouth when he unwraps the paper and run out of the room.

"So, not a fan of these either," he says to the packs of gauze. They're also unimpressed.

*

So the execution was out of the question, ironies aside, because even in this merciless world executing a pregnant woman is more than anyone telling themseves they're the future of mankind would be able to stomach.

Too bad nobody told the soldier who tried to stab her while she was attempting to stitch his leg. But luckily, his aim, even in such close quarters, was as bad as her needlework really turned out to be after all.

*

"So this is what he meant when he said he couldn't wait," John says. He's sitting next to her bed, and she's alright but kept here for her safety.

"I don't know. I didn't tell him," she says, and she could be telling the truth. The medic says it's fairly recent. "I did tell him I didn't want our sons to be soldiers, to have the lives we had. That's why _I_ wouldn't stop fighting."

"A life in the run is hardly better," he says. He knows.

She looks warily at him, and runs a hand protectively on her belly. She looks pale and tired, but not frail, not even on the face of what his expressed doubt could mean to her. "Your Sargeant was here, did you know?"

That throws him off. "What?"

" _He_ offered to let me go. Turn a blind eye, and...For you, of course. He said he'd take the blame."

John doesn't know what to say.

"And he asked."

"Asked what?"

She moves her hand again. "If it was..." _Hell, no._ "He seemed pretty upset."

"He'll be upset when I find him, yes," John says, trying not to gag. Seriously, what the...?

"He wouldn't look at me. It was kind of funny, as much as an accusation of being a planted spy with aims to seduce John Connor can be."

"If you were a planted spy, you wouldn't be here to seduce me," John says, because if Skynet had gone to the trouble to find...John wants to gather all his thoughts about them and nuke them. Fucking machines.

But then he catches her eyes widening slightly, and he recognizes the gesture. _Oh, crap, miscalculation._

She sits up and wraps her arms around herself, and looks at him; and there's not a hint of confusion on her face this time. She knows that he knows.

"Did you see who shot me, Lena?"

She's strong, but he's waiting for it. So he can take the scalpel from her hand without hurting her too much.

*

John is thinking about that day on the park, with his mother, while he's deciding what to do with a woman who looks like she could be her sister, who's going to have a son she doesn't want to grow up to be a soldier.

Or a daughter. Whose life would be just as shitty and full of battles and death. 

Kyle is silent at his side, sitting on John's cot. When John lets out a weary sigh (a sound he wouldn't allow himself in front of anyone else), Kyle wraps an arm around him, and John gives up and presses his head on Kyle's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Kyle says, and John really should clear things out, should possibly make him regret going behind his back (nevermind the number of times John has done the same, but he _knows_ and Kyle only _thinks_ he knows), but right now Kyle seems to only want to comfort him, so he allows him to wrap his arms around him, and dig his fingers in John's hair, and even press a kiss to the crown of his head.

John sighs again, and thinks on how it would have been, being small and comforted like this; Kyle knowing and holding him because they were a family and not because he thought John had...or at least had wanted to...

John lifts his head, to say something; but he doesn't open his eyes, and looking back he can see how it might have looked like an invitation.

*

For a moment, nothing more happened. There was only the press of Kyle's lips against his, and his arms around him, and the feeling of warmth and safety, of being so close to someone he lo...

 And John is shaked, and badly at that; but he needs Kyle, and now Skynet knows about him and about Sarah and about _everything_ , so there's no more certainties.

When he breaks apart, Kyle's still clinging to him. John presses his forehead against his, and shakes his head.

"If you don't want..." Kyle starts, starting to pull away. John helds him fast and shakes his head again.

"I do. You don't even know how much I...but I can't. Do anything more than this." John says, kissing him again, chaste and close-mouthed.

Kyle nods. "Because of her?"

"Because of many things."

Kyle doesn't press the issue of what he means by that, and John doesn't ask him what conclusions he reached.

In due time, John will show him Sarah's picture, and he will understand. But not before he's spend time obsessing over the woman he thought John had loved; so in due time, he will transfer one obsession to another, not tainted by jealousy.

He'd be full of awe, admiration for Sarah Connor, who could inspire such devotion, who had shaped John as the man--the soldier--Kyle knew.

 _Perhaps I should name him John and be done with it_ , Lena had said, half in despair and half cruelly. _It's not as if he will know me, after all. He'll be named John and be a soldier, and think I wanted this for him._

John gets up in the middle of the night, and goes to the cells.

*

"You wouldn't have been able to kill me," John says conversationally, as he enters. She's not sleeping, and he doesn't blame her. The cells are poorly guarded, because there's more than one soldier who'd like to see her try to scape, and think themselves blameless. "But I do appreciate the gesture, even if I'd like to know why."

She tilts her head. "The machines told me you'd find me. When they let us go. That you'd come to me, and it'd be easy..."

"Yes, we've stablished that," John says, in his prophet John Connor monotone. _I know all this_. "But you didn't."

" _You_ didn't." She says. She reaches for his hand, and he lets her take it. It doesn't matter now. "You don't know..." She smiles, faintly. "Reese was right. You really are above that."

"I'm not above or below any other man, Lena."

"Maybe not. But you acted as if you saw something special in me, and I saw what the others saw on you, and I couldn't..." she looks at him curiously. "I _look_ like someone you loved, is that it?"

He pulls his hand back. "Yes."

"Was she brave?"

"She was the bravest woman I knew."

Lena nods. "Then there's the catch. I'm nothing like her."

John looks at her, at this woman Skynet tried to use against him, at this woman who saved his life. And thinks of Skynet knowing what Sarah looked like.

"The time-displacement units. They must be operational, by now."

"What?"

"The time-displacement units. Tell Skynet I know of them. It might be worth enough to get you in one of them."

She's still staring at her, uncomprehending, so he grabs her arm and takes her to the door.

"The cell is unguarded, so you could really have left any time after I was here. So you are going to leave, and give Skynet this information, and your son won't be a soldier, and he won't have to grow thinking you wanted this for him."

"But..."

"Go," he says, and so there's another person hopefully travelling back in time with parting words that John will repeat several times on his lifetime.

_There is no fate but what we make for ourselves._

*

_When John is five years old, his mother takes him to a park. That day, in the park, there is another boy near his age._

_"Connor!", his mother calls him, and John and Sarah turn around, but it turns out that's the other boy's name._

_Connor and John play together the whole afternoon before their mothers, who looked like they could be sisters, call them to leave._

_Connor's mother ruffles John's hair, and leans toward Sarah, and whispers something to her._

_John and Sarah never go back to that park, because Sarah leaves the city the same night._

*

Lena's son won't be named John, and he won't be a soldier.

_There is no fate but what we make for ourselves._

John will say that many times, to people he loves and as a message to people he loves.

Sometimes it will even be true.

**Author's Note:**

> Just to ease your mind: John has no designs on the Sarah look-alike. Ew, no. We're not _that_ twisted :S


End file.
